Snapshot in Time
by am4ever
Summary: ***UPDATED: A few things deleted and some new things added!**** A potential Season 6 conversation between Lord Merton and Isobel Crawley... Based on behind the scenes pictures of filming for the final series!
1. Chapter 1

_Many thanks to you all for being so encouraging and caring during my time away from writing. Unfortunately, I lost two dear women in my life, both to cancer, within the same week. One like a grandmother and the other like a mother. It has been a trying time but I am happy to get back to writing and am looking forward to September more than ever! Thank you all again!_

Short, quick steps carried Isobel Crawley across the street towards Downton Cottage Hospital. The weather was dreary, much like her mood these days, and the damp atmosphere only depressed her further. The less she was in the cold, the better.

Gripping her hand bag tight, she rounded the final corner to reach her destination. With her eyes cast down to keep from tripping over a cobblestone, she saw a pair of feet and slowed her steps, looking up with a smile to politely acknowledge the individual.

But her smile faded quickly, her eyes widening in shock, as Lord Merton stepped in her path.

"Good day," he said softly. "Mary told me you were due here this afternoon."

Isobel recovered quickly, closing her slightly open mouth and nodding. "Yes…yes I have a meeting with Dr. Clarkson about the Outpatient Clinic," she offered, her lips nervously curling in to a small smile.

"So she said," he answered, looking down and clasping his hands behind his back. "How are you?"

Her eyes creased in confusion, unsure of why he had sought her out. "Fine, thank you…and you?"

He shifted to the other foot, chancing a glance in her direction. His stomach turned with nerves when he saw the curious look she fixed him with. He knew he had to give some explanation as to why he had waited for her; she was an intelligent woman and surely knew his presence in Downton Village was not a coincidence. Sighing, he stood straight and cleared his throat.

"Isobel...forgive me…might I still call you that?" he asked quickly.

She now gripped her bag with both hands. "Of course," she answered softly.

"I know you are quite busy…but I wonder if you might come to tea on Friday."

His hopes were dashed upon seeing her face drop, her eyes now dark and lips drawn in to a thin line.

She silently walked a few steps around him to stand at the hospital's gate. "I'm not sure…"

"Please," he interrupted. His eyes locked with hers as he pressed on. "I want to apologize for how I spoke the last time we met. And I would like to explain….you see….things have changed, Isobel."

He sighed and looked down, taking a step toward her and gathering his courage. Looking up, he asked quietly, "Please…will you come?"

She could not help but smile, her affection for him winning over her fear and hurt. "I will have to check my calendar when I get home…to make sure I do not have to work in the clinic," she replied.

His face brightened considerably. "Of course, quite right. I'm afraid I am keeping you from meeting Dr Clarkson. Perhaps I could phone tomorrow afternoon…to see about Friday?"

She suppressed a chuckle, not wanting to embarrass him. But he was trying so hard…one trait she had come to admire in him.

"I'll look forward to it," she replied.

"You will?" he asked, clearly surprised that she was open to the idea.

She smiled to him before looking behind to the hospital. "I best be off."

He took a step back and cleared his throat again. "Of course. Until tomorrow then."

He tipped his hat to her and smiled, only letting out his long-held breath when she had entered the hospital. While it was only a small step, at least it was one in the right direction. Pushing his hands in to his pockets, he walked away feeling much lighter than when he'd arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

"Will you tell him?"

Isobel's hand stopped mid-task, her glove only half on, as she looked up in confusion.

"What ever do you mean?"

"He cares…and he has a right to know," Dr. Clarkson said quietly, coming around his desk to stand in front of her.

She looked away from his serious gaze to finish pulling on her glove. "I do not see how it would matter."

"You know it would…he must know the real reason you broke off the engagement," the doctor admonished.

She remained silent, pulling on her other glove before turning back to gather her bag. He shook his head, knowing he should not press the subject. But her melancholy mood worried him and if there was a way to bring her some happiness, he was willing to change upsetting her.

"I saw you outside…talking to Lord Merton," he admitted. Her back stiffened before she whipped around, her eyes wide and searching. "I happened by the window when you were speaking to him."

"I fail to see how that…"

"Isobel," the doctor said firmly, taking another step closer to her, "he _must_ be told. You owe him that. His sons may be snobbish imbeciles but you _know _that is not the reason you turned him down."

She looked down quickly to hide the tears that sprang to her eyes. The Doctor hung his own head, wiping a tired hand over his face.

"Please…think about it?" he asked, gently squeezing her upper arm.

She nodded, her eyes still cast down. "Thank you," she whispered.

And with that, she hurried out of his office. The doctor sighed in frustration before striding over to the door, slamming it shut.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're very aloof this afternoon," Violet commented, glancing over her tea cup at Isobel. She had noticed her cousin was quite different than a year ago. Her mood had diminished since the start of the New Year, and Violet's initial assumption of winter being the culprit now seemed incorrect.

"Am I? I do not mean to be," Isobel replied, her eyes moving back to Violet and offering the Dowager a weak smile. "Do tell me how things are coming along with the spring flower show."

As they lapsed in to comfortable conversation, Violet continued to observe Isobel. She knew her cousin was keeping something from her…something she deemed important enough that it was affecting her usually optimistic attitude.

"Have you been to see George lately?" Violet asked, knowing the mention of Isobel's only grandchild always brought a great deal of joy to his paternal grandmother.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't. I've been quite busy with the clinic…I should make a point to go up this weekend," Isobel replied.

Violet's eyes narrowed, her curiosity peaked. "Goodness…does Dr. Clarkson not have enough staff to work at the clinic?"

"He does, of course. But I'm happy to help if I can…to feel useful," Isobel answered.

"To feel useful? Or to evade any thought of Lord Merton?" Violet countered, innocently sipping her tea while Isobel's cup clattered on the saucer.

Violet caught Isobel's jaw clench and her eyes crease with anger. The glare she received from the woman was enough to answer her question.

"Well, that answers that," Violet commented, her lips pursed with satisfaction. "Why don't you write to him? See how he is? There's no law that says you cannot be friendly because you refused to marry him."

Isobel's look of anger dissipated, replaced by one of regret. "I suppose I wouldn't know what to say…just as I'm not sure if I should accept his offer to tea on Friday."

The Dowager's eyes widened. "He's asked you to tea? When did this happen?"

"Just this morning. I had a meeting with Dr. Clarkson, and when I got to the hospital, Lord Merton was waiting."

"How did he know you would be there?"

"I must have mentioned the meeting to Mary. He said she told him where I would be," Isobel replied, sitting against the back of the chair and folding her hands in her lap. "I don't think I should accept."

"Why on Earth wouldn't you?" Violet exclaimed, knowing this was exactly what Isobel needed to cheer her up.

"We've said all there is to say…nothing will change Larry and Timothy's opinion. I am what I am and I cannot change that."

"No one says you have to change who you are to have tea with Lord Merton," Violet scoffed. She shook her head with exasperation. "I think you need to hear him out. Perhaps he is just looking to be friends…"

"Perhaps…"Isobel answered softly, her eyes dropping to her hands. Her thumbs twiddled in circles as her nerves heightened. "But would it not be better to let the matter rest?"

"No, it would not!" Violet answered strongly. "And if you will not accept, I will do so on your behalf."

"You will not! I can still accept my own invitations, thank you very much," Isobel countered, a bit of spark coming back in her tone.

Violet hid her amusement at having successfully riled Isobel Crawley's feathers. Though she would never admit it, she hated to see Isobel so melancholy. She liked their bantering back and forth…it kept her on her toes.

"Well, then you'd best accept the invitation tonight or I shall be forced to make a phone call in the morning."

Isobel's lips pressed together, subduing the harsh comment she had for the Dowager Countess. Instead, she took her tea cup and sipped the warm liquid, hoping the decision to meet Lord Merton would not cost her in the end.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you quite sure about this, Mrs. Crawley?" young Clara asked, helping Isobel on with her coat.

"If I'm not, it won't make any difference now," Isobel replied, thanking the maid as she gathered her bag.

"I do hope you have a nice time, ma'am," Clara said quietly, looking down and clasping her hands together in front.

"Thank you, Clara," Isobel replied kindly before heading out in to the cool afternoon. Dickie Merton had sent a car which was now parked outside her gate. Taking a deep breath, she strode forward with determination, quelling the bubbling emotions inside.

"Mrs. Crawley, milord," the Butler announced, causing Dickie to stop pacing and look towards the entryway.

"Thank you," he replied, nodding to the Butler and smiling at Isobel. "Please, come in."

He motioned for her to take a seat on the settee. Thanking him softly, she obliged.

"It was good of you to come," he said, taking a seat across from her.

She forced a smile. "Yes…well…it was good of you to ask."

He could clearly see she was nervous, as was he. He sat forward and clasped his hands together over his knees.

"I suppose I should get to the heart of the matter…rather than allow this cloud of anxiety to hang over the both of us," he explained.

And finally, he saw the real Isobel come through as she laughed softly and looked down. "Yes, I suppose that would make things more comfortable," she answered, her lips curling in to a grin.

He nodded in agreement. "I mentioned that things have changed since we last saw each other. Larry and Timothy…Larry especially...have taken a great interest in America. Many of their friends and colleagues have gone overseas, and they wish to try their hands at investment trading. Larry has already booked his crossing, and I doubt it will be long before Timothy follows suit."

He stood and clasped his hands behind his back, pausing to allow her time to absorb the information. When he looked up, he saw her eyeing him intently; clearly curious as to what he would say next.

"And with their decision to move to America, they seemed to have changed their feelings on certain subjects. Perhaps it is the prospect of a new adventure that has mellowed their former thoughts on our…on our getting married."

Isobel's head shot up in shock. "You mean…"

Dickie nodded, his smile widening. "They would like to meet you, properly and with no underlying opinions.'A fresh start' Timothy called it. That is….if you…"

He sensed her unease and saw her face dropping in to a frown.

"I do not mean to press you…" he said quickly, coming to sit beside her on the settee."I suppose I was so relieved when they boys approached me with the idea, I never thought…"

She smiled weakly and shook her head. "Please don't apologize. It _is_ very generous of them."

Dickie agreed but could see she was still hesitant. "Isobel…I know they hurt you. I wish I could take it all back…to forget the whole thing ever happened. But I assure you, my feelings have not changed…if anything, I've only grown to love you more since we last met. It is all I can do to get you off of my mind."

"Please don't," she whispered, turning her head to look away. She closed her eyes, willing away her tears.

Confused as to her reaction, he cautiously reached over to touch her arm. "Have your feelings changed? Have I ruined everything?"

She turned quickly, her moist eyes meeting his. If anything were true, her feelings had also deepened for the Lord Merton. She missed him desperately since calling off their engagement, and she did not wish him to feel he was at fault.

"Not at all…forgive me," she replied, looking away from his concerned gaze. "I suppose this is all a bit overwhelming."

He sighed in relief, his hand reaching down to clasp hers. "I do hope you mean that; because I wish for nothing more than to marry you, Isobel Crawley."

_He cares…and he has a right to know…_

Dr. Clarkson's words rang through her mind as Dickie squeezed her hand gently. Should she tell him…could she make him understand?

"I'm sorry…but I can't," she whispered, leaving go of his hand and quickly crossing to the far side of the room. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, trying to maintain some sense of composure.

A tense moment of silence passed before she heard his voice behind her.

"I don't understand," he said quietly. "I thought if the boys agreed…you said you would be happy to get married."

Memories of the conversation they'd had in her drawing room after Rose's wedding came to mind…how happy she'd been at the prospect of becoming his wife. When he'd asked if she had any other reason for not marrying, she had dismissed the notion, saying she would be _very glad _to marry him. She hadn't thought of it since her last check up with Dr. Clarkson….since her diagnosis.

"What has changed, Isobel?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his tone.

"It is not you…nor the boys…" she replied, "...it means so much to know that you still want to marry after everything that has happened."

She turned slowly and met his eyes. He was mere inches away from her, so close she wondered he didn't hear how loudly her heart seemed to be beating. If ever she hated herself, it was in this moment. She did not wish to crush both of their dreams…but either way, he would be hurt in the end. This was the only way….

"Then tell me what more I can do to convince you to become my wife," he pleaded, reaching forward and clasping her hands between his. "Please, Isobel…"

"It would be unfair of me to marry you now Lord…Dickie," she said, correcting herself. She cursed herself for sounding so harsh and formal. "While things have changed for the better with the boys…I'm afraid there was more to my decision than their opinions."

He remained silent, though his face twisted with confusion.

_He must know the real reason you broke off the engagement…._

She shuddered at the memory of Dr. Clarkson's words but knew the doctor was right. Dickie deserved to know…if for no other reason than to understand how much she cared and wanted to protect him.

"We've talked of how busy the Outpatient Clinic has been. Before the holiday, it seemed I was there every day to help. I freely admit I was worn down…so much so that the Dowager insisted I see Dr. Clarkson."

"I remember," he said, nodding slightly, "but I thought the doctor gave you a clean bill of health, did he not? We met for tea after, and you said everything was all right."

She nodded, looking down and pulling her hands from his. "Yes…yes, I did say that. But I'm afraid that was not the truth."

Dickie's hands dropped in defeat at his sides. He shook his head, his eyes creased with confusion. "I don't understand."

Sighing, she crossed her arms and turned to look out the window again. "Of course you don't…I don't expect you to. It…it was wrong of me not to tell you from the start…but I suppose I was too shocked that I couldn't even imagine how to explain it."

Making up her mind, she turned sharply and let her arms drop to her sides. "I do care for you, Dickie…truly. And it is because I care that we cannot get married."

"But what is the problem if we both care about each other…love each other?" he asked, stepping forward and pulling her hands up. "Isobel…"

"I have a heart condition and not much time left," she blurted out, her eyes not daring to meet his. She could feel his hands tense and dreaded causing him any pain.

"A heart condition?" he asked quietly, keeping her fingers firmly in his hands. "What does that mean?"

Her chest began to constrict as the room seemed to close in around her. _Deep breaths, deep breaths_….

"Apparently my heart was weakened when I had rheumatic fever as a young girl. Dr. Clarkson feels that is when the damage started," she answered softly.

He dropped her hands, his mind devoid of any logical thought, as he stared down at her. "But you've not been ill since then?" She shook her head, prompting his next question. "Then this cannot be too serious, can it?"

"It is true I've not had more than a spot of influenza over the years," she answered with a sigh. "But the damage done by the fever is irreversible. And as one ages, the heart muscle does weaken…I'm afraid mine has simply worn out."

Dickie said nothing. He covered his slightly open mouth with one hand, while the other came to rest on his hip as he contemplated the situation. She felt the need to comfort him, to take his hands and tell him she was not worried. She had lived a fulfilling life and accepted that this was her fate. But getting too close now would only make leaving him more painful.

"So you see…I couldn't rope you in to a marriage where you would have to care for me or make amends because I was unable to fulfill my duties as your wife. It would not be fair to you…"

It took only three long strides for Dickie to stand front of her. Her words faded as his hands clasped her upper arms, his eyes searching hers. Her chest began to ache as her breaths came short and quick, her anxiety heightened by his close proximity.

"Dickie…" she began, hoping to break the tension.

"I won't accept this," he spoke lowly. "I will not allow you to make this decision on your own."

"But I..."

"I am going to be your husband…for better or worse…in sickness and in health." He spoke with such confidence that she feared going against him. "Isobel…whether it be one day, one month, one year or ten…there is nothing that would make me happier than to be called your husband; no matter what state of health you are in when we declare our vows."

Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down. Her hand came to cover her lips as a sob threatened to escape. Tentatively, Dickie pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her back.

"I won't let you go," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Please…marry me, Isobel. Let me take care of you…let me love you."

Isobel gathered her emotions and slowly pushed back from Dickie's chest. Meeting his eyes, a single tear slipped down her cheek. "It would only cause more of a hassle…my being here and unable to help you."

"Never," he replied firmly.

"I don't want anyone's pity…I haven't told anyone because I cannot bear to have them treat me as though I'm already in the ground."

Her common sense urged her to say anything that would make him see burying another wife was his fate if they married. But her strength, emotionally and physically, was waning…and her walls of defense quickly falling.

"Pity is not what I am offering," he countered. "Simply my love. And you are more than deserving of that…with or without a heart condition."

"I…I don't know what to say," she said, grateful he still had a hold on her. Her legs felt weak and her breathing quite shallow.

"Say yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes," he answered with a grin. "Say yes."

Silence enveloped them for a moment as Isobel's mind raced with excuses, warnings, reasons why she should never be Lady Merton. But staring in to his eyes, she quickly lost all her inhibition.

"All right…" she whispered as her eyes tentatively met his. "Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

To be honest, the five months had flown by and had Isobel not told him of her illness, he might never have guessed. They had been so busy with planning the wedding; closing up Crawley House and moving Isobel's thing to Cavenham Place; bidding farewell to Larry; attending parties, dinners and the like to introduce Isobel to his many friends….he wasn't sure how she'd kept up with it all and not fell ill!

But she was as strong as ever, never showing any weakness except when he caught her in a quiet moment. And though Dr. Clarkson had warned she should not overexert herself, he grinned remembering how she'd roll her eyes and say she was _not going to be confined to bed for goodness sake_.

Their wedding day had been one of the happiest he'd ever known, and each day since had only proved their marriage was the right decision. While she was still independent, she allowed Dickie to accompany her to her appointments with Dr. Clarkson. Dickie saw Richard Clarkson as a confidante, someone he knew he could trust to keep Isobel's health quiet from the Crawley family. No one had questioned her on her choice to only work at the Outpatient Clinic if there was a desperate need for volunteers. Much to Isobel's relief, Mary had readily agreed it would be good for Isobel to take some time away from the clinic and worry about settling in as 'Lady Merton.'

Dickie knew that there may come a time when Isobel would no longer be able to keep her health from Mary. The young woman had always been extremely observant, an attribute Dickie admired. But for now, things had been moving along at a stable pace…a pace that he hoped would continue for a long time to come.

As he looked across the small circle he stood in, he caught the eye of Violet Crawley. She had caught him staring across the field, smiling upon seeing Isobel laugh over something young George whispered in her ear. The Dowager, uncharacteristically, offered him a small smile, nodding her approval to Lord Merton and raising her champagne glass slightly. He mimicked her action before they both took a sip, each grateful to see Isobel Crawley happy and enjoying her grandson.

"Isobel tells me that you are planning on taking a trip to London for a few days," Mary said, turning to face Dickie. "Is this for business or pleasure?"

"Business, I'm afraid," Dickie replied with a sigh. "Larry has left some issues unresolved before traipsing away to America. He has asked our lawyers that I sign a few papers on his behalf."

"How inconvenient," Violet responded with a scoff. "Should they not send them to him in America? He must learn responsibility some time."

Dickie nodded in agreement. "Quite right, but unfortunately, it seems there is a time constraint associated…and we all know how long it takes for things to come back from America."

Mary and Violet both rolled their eyes in the same fashion, so much alike that Dickie had to suppress laughing at the similarity between grandmother and granddaughter.

"Granddad! Granddad!"

Four year old George came running to their small circle, quite out of breath and grasping for Dickie's hand.

"George, you mustn't shout so," Mary chided, placing a firm hand on George's shoulder to stop his advance straight in to Dickie's side.

"But Mama…"

"Now, now, where is Nanny? I think it time for you to have you afternoon rest, hm? And we should gather Marigold," Mary said, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of the children's nanny.

"But Mama!"

"George, we have agreed you are to have your nap every afternoon, haven't we?"

The little boy's bottom lip stuck out and his head dropped. Mary, though outwardly stern, felt a small twinge of compassion in her heart for the small boy. Bending down, she pressed a kiss to the top of the boy's head.

"You can see Granddad and Grandmamma in the library after. They are staying for dinner tonight, all right?" she asked, offering her son a small smile.

George looked up at Mary, tears replacing the normal sparkle in his blue eyes. "But they won't, Mama! They won't be here!"

Dickie smiled and placed his hand on George's shoulder and patting it gently. "Not to worry, my boy. Of course we will be!"

"But Donk said Grandmamma is sick and needs Dr. Clarkson…so she can't stay if she needs Dr. Clarkson, can she?"

Mary's mouth opened slightly in surprise as she quickly looked up at her godfather. But Dickie's eyes had darted over to where he had last seen Isobel. He couldn't seem to find her in the crowd of people standing and mingling with each other.

"George, what do you mean?" Violet asked, stepping forward to look down at the little boy.

_Where is she…? _His mind was racing, thinking through all Dr. Clarkson had warned could happen and what he could do once he found her.

It seemed like hours before Dickie caught sight of Cora and Edith hurrying over to where Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes stood. Looking beyond the women, his eyes locked with those of Lord Grantham.

The grim look across Robert Crawley's face was all Dickie needed to spring in to action. He hurried through the crowd of people towards where Robert stood. Mary had picked up George and hurried after her godfather while Violet had chosen a different, shorter path toward Cora and Edith.

_Please let her be all right, _he prayed with each step he took. He hurried around the last group of people standing in his way, his momentum so much that he almost crashed right in to Robert. Robert put two steadying hands on Dickie's upper arms, looking his friend directly in the eye.

"Cora and Edith have gone to have Carson ring for Dr. Clarkson," Robert relayed quickly. "Isobel was chatting with Cora and then seemed to get very dizzy. Her breathing is labored….has she been ill?"

Dickie pushed past him to Isobel seated in a white wicker chair. He heard Mary speaking with Robert, but his focus was solely on that of his extremely pale wife.

"Isobel…what is it?" he asked quietly, stooping down in front of her. He winced as both knees cracked, but quickly forgot his own pain when he saw how difficult it was for her to breathe.

She tried to speak but was struggling so for air that no words came out. One hand was pressed against her chest, the other now wrapped tightly around his.

"Shh, shh….it's all right. We'll get Dr. Clarkson and everything will be fine," he reassured her.

"Dickie…perhaps we best get her inside," Robert said, putting a steady hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Are you sure, Papa?" Mary said, staring down with worry at her mother-in-law. "I'm not sure she should move in such a condition."

"But is it safe to leave her here?" Robert asked, looking between Mary and Dickie.

Before Dickie could reply, he heard quick footsteps behind him.

"Carson has gone to ring for Dr. Clarkson and Mrs. Hughes will make up a room," Cora rattled off, her own breath a bit shaky after hurrying across the large yard twice.

Dickie turned to acknowledge Cora and saw she was not alone. Thomas and Andy stood behind her and Edith, surrounding Lord and Lady Merton so they would have a bit of privacy from the large crowd of people gathered at Downton.

"We were deciding whether or not we should take Isobel inside now or wait for Dr. Clarkson," Robert said, his eyes never leaving Isobel as she struggled to breathe normally.

"If I may, milord," Thomas said softly, "It would be best to get Lady Merton out of the elements….away from the crowds before she gets any worse."

"I agree, Papa," Edith said, her eyes wide with worry, "Thomas was in the Medical Corps. I think it best we listen to his direction until Dr. Clarkson arrives."

Robert nodded to the group before looking to Dickie. "Dickie, what do you think?"

Dickie took a moment to catch Isobel's eyes, looking to her for some sense of direction. But they were closed in exhaustion; her outstretched hand had now balled in to a fist in the middle of her chest.

"Quickly…we must go quickly," Dickie said, standing straight and turning to the group. "Thomas, if you and Andy would be so kind as to walk in front and behind, I believe Lord Grantham and I can support Lady Merton up to the house. We should not attract any attention if we go around the crowd instead of through it."

Both servants nodded. Thomas stepped around Cora and Edith, motioning for Andy to follow suit. The Under Butler stood beside Lord Grantham, ready to help if he could. Lady Merton had always been kind to him when he worked at the hospital, and having been under her direction during the war, he felt it was his duty to see her through this ordeal…whatever it may be.

"We will go as slowly as you need, darling," Dickie whispered, placing one arm around her shoulders and the other hand on her left arm. Andy held the back of the chair firmly while Robert leaned down to take Isobel's right hand.

"You tell us when you think you can stand, Isobel," Robert said, casting a worried look to his wife and daughters. Isobel's hand was cold and clammy in his, and his intuition told him this was a heart attack.

Isobel's eyes opened slowly, her eyes searching for Dickie.

"I'm right here," he reassured her, causing her eyes to dart across and meet his. "Ready?"

She nodded, knowing she would be unable to form any coherent response with her chest throbbing as it was. Dickie nodded to Robert and the two men all but lifted Isobel out of the chair, her body rigid as a searing pain shot from her chest down her arm.

Her lips pressed together to suppress a groan but then quickly opened as she felt the need to gasp for air.

"Papa! Hurry!" Mary cried, her hand pressing George's head in to her neck to shield him from seeing his beloved Grandmamma in such a state.

"Cora, mingle with the guests until the doctor arrives," Robert instructed as he and Dickie guided Isobel towards the house. Andy and Thomas were keen in using height to their advantage, staying only a few steps in front of and behind Isobel to hide her from any wandering eyes.

They were only steps from the entrance to the library when Dickie felt Isobel's full weight against him.

"Isobel?"

He stopped, forcing Robert and Andy to as well. Thomas turned just as Isobel began to fall. He reached forward to steady Isobel's shoulders while Dickie dropped his own arm around her waist. Her eyes were shut, the only sound being the wheezing breath coming across her lips.

"She'll never make it up the steps," Robert said, looking across to Dickie.

Dickie cast his own fears aside and gently scooped Isobel in to his arms, readjusting his hold on her so that her head fell to his shoulder. Looking to Thomas, he nodded.

"Lead the way."

Thomas quickly opened the doors and instructed Andy to run ahead and find Mrs. Hughes. It was unusual for the Under Butler not to be confident…but in this moment, he knew that he may not be able to save Lady Merton from what fate seemed to be revealing.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you all for such amazing reviews! Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"Dr. Clarkson! How is she?" Lord Merton asked, his pacing in front of the library's fireplace temporarily halted.

The Crawley family had gathered in the large room, save for the children who had been taken the nursery by Nanny.

"Yes, do tell us Doctor," Robert said, coming to stand beside Dickie.

"Lady Merton is resting…I don't believe she will wake before morning," Dr. Clarkson replied.

"But she's all right?" Mary asked from across the room.

"She is…for now," Dr. Clarkson answered with a nod.

There was a collective sigh of relief. Lord Merton placed a hand over his eyes, the stress of the situation beginning to overwhelm him.

"Thank God," he breathed, grateful that Robert put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"You both can stay as long as you need, Dickie," Robert said quietly before turning back to Dr. Clarkson. "What must we do to help Isobel?"

"I will check on her in the morning, but I do not want her moving for the next few days…possibly a week. It will take quite a long time for her to regain her strength," he answered.

"Was it a…a heart attack, Dr. Clarkson?" Violet asked.

The doctor turned to address the Dowager and noticed for the first time just how shaken she seemed to be. The normally stalwart figure sat between Cora and Edith, one hand clasped in her granddaughter's and the other holding fast to her cane. Her color was quite pale and her posture devoid of its usual height.

"I'm afraid so, your Ladyship," Dr. Clarkson admitted, turning back to see that Lord Merton still had hand over his face. He wished to speak to him privately, not knowing how much the family had been told of Isobel's condition, but with the Baron's current emotional state, he did not think it wise to pull him away from the family just yet.

"But Isobel has always been so healthy!" Cora gasped. "She was just sitting and talking….she didn't seem ill at all!"

"I will know more once she wakes…perhaps then there will be more answers at that time," Dr. Clarkson stated.

"Might I see her?" Lord Merton asked suddenly, his hand dropping from his face to show the glistening tears in his eyes.

"Of course. But I must ask that she not strain herself to speak or move if she does wake. I've asked Mrs. Hughes to sit with her until I return in the morning. However, I would only ask that she and one other person be in the room. Lady Merton needs peace and quiet right now."

"Of course, Dr. Clarkson. Thank you for coming so quickly," Robert replied.

"I've left instructions for Mrs. Hughes to ring with the slightest change…but I'm sure her family's presence will be comfort enough to see her through the night."

"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson," Cora said, rising to her feet to stand beside Robert. "Perhaps we can see you out while Lord Merton goes to be with Isobel now."

"I'll walk you up," Mary called out, coming to take Dickie's arm. He was grateful for her support, feeling as though his world had just been turned upside down and his legs may give out at any moment.

"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson. Thank you ever so much," Dickie said, reaching out to shake the doctor's hand. A look of understanding passed between the two men, Dickie realizing that the doctor had more to tell him. But right now, all he wanted was to see his wife and make sure she was all right.

"Of course," Dr. Clarkson replied, stepping aside to let Mary and Dickie pass by. He only hoped that he wasn't making the wrong decision in keeping all he knew to himself…

* * *

"Might there be anything I can get you, Lord Merton?" Mrs. Hughes asked quietly, picking up the tray of food he had long since forgotten.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Hughes. And please thank Mrs. Patmore for the dinner…and make sure to tell her it was not her cooking that kept me from eating," he said sadly, his eyes never leaving the form of his sleeping wife.

"Very good, milord," the Housekeeper replied, walking over to the door and opening it. "I won't be very long."

Dickie nodded but said nothing nor turned to acknowledge Mrs. Hughes' exit. He did not dare move his gaze away from Isobel…he wanted to be sure he saw the moment her eyelids fluttered open for the first time. He held tight to her hand, massaging her knuckles gently with his thumb. She looked dreadfully pale against the dark wood of the large bed, the only contrast being that of her honey blond hair lying across the pillow.

"Lord Merton, might I come in?"

He had expected someone from the family to come and check in on him….but he hadn't thought it would be the Dowager Countess of Grantham. Upon hearing her voice, he stood and turned, though she held up a hand and motioned for him to take his seat beside Isobel's bed once more.

"I thought I would look in and perhaps give you a few moments of relief. Though I met Mrs. Hughes in the hall, and she said you were adamant about staying with Isobel all night," Violet said, coming closer to the bed but refusing to look at its inhabitant.

Dickie stole his eyes away from Isobel to meet the Dowager's concerned gaze. It was not often that he saw Violet Crawley show emotion, but he could quickly see that Isobel's attack had had a great effect on the Dowager Countess.

"Yes, I plan on it. I do not want her to be frightened when she wakes up…she will probably not recall what has happened," he explained, his fingers tightening around Isobel's cool hand.

"She has not woken then?" the Dowager asked, her eyes now focused on the top of her cane.

"No…no she has not," Dickie replied with a sigh. "I know what Dr. Clarkson said…however, I cannot help but feel a bit impatient. I would prefer she wake sooner rather than later…perhaps then I will feel she is on her way to recovery."

Silence enveloped them for a moment before Violet stepped forward and tentatively placed a hand on Dickie's shoulder.

"Might I sit with her for a few moments? Give you time to freshen up and perhaps change in to something more comfortable?"

Dickie made to protest, but he knew that Isobel highly regarded the relationship she'd formed with Violet. Though they sparred often, he knew his wife appreciated the Dowager as a dear friend and confidante….and so he could not refute Violet wanting to spend a few moments alone with Isobel.

"Thank you…that is most appreciated. I dare not leave for more than a few minutes…in case she wakes," he said, leaning down to kiss Isobel's hand.

He took one last look at his sleeping wife and then stood, gently placing her hand down on the blanket. He motioned for Violet to take his chair and held fast to the back until she was settled beside Isobel's bed.

"Thank you, Violet. This is most generous of you," he said quietly.

"Not at all. Off you go…"

Dickie hesitantly closed the door and leaned heavily against it. He wiped a hand down his face and said a silent prayer that Isobel would soon wake.

"Ah Dickie, how is she?"

Robert approached his old friend and clapped him on the shoulder. "You do not look so well yourself. Why not let me fetch you something to eat?"

Dickie waved away Robert's concern. "No, no…Mrs. Patmore sent up a tray but I'm afraid I'm too anxious and food has no appeal."

"Of course," Robert replied. "I am sorry about this, old chap. I never thought I would see the day that Isobel was lying in bed rather than being the one to nurse everyone back to health."

Dickie nodded silently but due to the welling emotions in his throat, he chose to say nothing.

"I've had Bates lay some things out for you to change. He will help you this evening…I'm sure you will want to get back to Isobel but at least take a few moments for yourself."

"Thank you, Robert. It is most appreciated."

"Not at all," Robert said, motioning for Dickie to follow him down the hall. "Is Mrs. Hughes with Isobel?"

"She took some linens and trays down to the kitchen. Your Mother is with Isobel now," Dickie explained tiredly.

"My Mother?" Robert asked, shocked at first but then realizing just how close Violet and Isobel had become. "Well, if anyone can get Isobel sparring again, it is my Mother. Perhaps it is good that she sits with Isobel for a bit."

Dickie did have to agree, a small chuckle emanating from the Baron. "Indeed. Whatever it might take to wake her, I will do it. I would do anything to hear her voice right now."

Robert had nothing to say that would make Dickie feel better in this moment and was grateful to see Bates come down the hall.

"Ah Bates…would you see that Lord Merton is taken care of? He will be staying with Lady Merton this evening, but Mrs. Hughes has had the green room made up in the mean time."

"Of course, Milord. I'll head there straight away," Bates replied, nodding to both men before walking in the direction of the green room.

Robert turned to Dickie. "Take all the time you need. And should Isobel wake, do take some time to get some rest. I can guarantee Mrs. Hughes is very capable of staying with her for a few hours."

"Thank you, Robert. I do trust your judgment and appreciate your concern …and your friendship."

"You've been a friend to this family for many years….and Isobel _is_ our family. You need only ask and it will be done," Robert said, shaking Dickie's hand firmly before leaving the Baron alone in the hall.

Hanging his head, Dickie moved slowly to the green room, hoping that what Isobel needed was simply a few days' rest before she was back to her normal self.


	7. Chapter 7

"It is very selfish of you…to be lying in that bed leaving the rest of us to worry," Violet quipped, her eyes still averted from looking at Isobel.

The Dowager had not meant to sound harsh, merely to intrigue conversation from the sleeping woman. If nothing else, she knew that pushing a few of Isobel's buttons could perk her up quickly….but it did not seem to be doing the trick in this instance.

Finally, Violet dared her eyes to rest on that of her cousin and friend. Isobel looked calm enough, but her color was a ghastly white. Violet could not remember a time when Isobel had been ill….true, she had looked quite drawn when Matthew died, but nothing so bad as this.

Squaring her shoulders, Violet bravely reached over and clasped on to Isobel's fingers. They felt like ice, so cold that she almost drew her hand away. But, she was determined to say something kind before Isobel woke. It would not do for her to say it after for Isobel would never let her forget one moment of weakness.

"Isobel, you must get well. You are needed here…and it will not do for you to give up. Heaven knows you are set in your ways," she said while a small grin turned her lips upward, "and I'm sure it is that stubborn nature which will bring you back to full strength. I may have chastised you in the past for it…but if there is anything I hope for you, it is that you find that willful pride again and get well. Who else will I have to argue with if you don't?"

Violet hoped for some sort of reaction or sign that Isobel had heard her but none came. She sat back in the chair, suddenly feeling very tired and alone.

"Forgive me, milady. Would you like me to come back?"

Violet held up a hand and stood, slowly turning to meet Mrs. Hughes.

"No, I should go. Lord Merton has gone to change, and I told him I would stay until either of you returned."

"That was very kind," Mrs. Hughes answered, offering the Dowager a small smile.

"Yes, well, I suppose she will sleep the rest of the night so I will leave her to it," Violet said simply, taking one last look back at Isobel before moving to the door.

Mrs. Hughes moved to put a fresh set of linens in the cupboard, thinking the Dowager had left the room. Surprisingly, she heard her voice being called from across the room.

"Yes, milady?"

"If there is any change…I would like to be notified. They try to keep things from me….Robert fears I'll keel over at the drop of a pin these days," Violet explained, her eyes still fixated on Isobel.

"Of course, milady," Mrs. Hughes replied.

"And…and thank you….for staying with her. I am confident she is in the best of hands this evening."

Elsie Hughes was not often stunned but compliments from the Dowager Countess were few and far between.

"I do hope so. We will do all we can for Lady Merton, I can assure you," Mrs. Hughes said quietly.

"I don't doubt you will. Good night," Violet all but whispered, stealing her eyes away from Isobel. She nodded to Mrs. Hughes and then slowly turned to leave the room.

And as the door closed behind her, Violet Crawley determined she would do everything in her power to make sure Lady Merton was given the best care…no matter what the cost.

* * *

Cold...exhausted…weak….

Isobel blinked a few times, trying to coax her eyes to focus on whatever weight was on her hand. It seemed the only piece of her that was truly warm, and as she was shivering, it would help to see just what was keeping her right hand so comfortable.

"Isobel….can you hear me? Isobel?"

She turned her head and smiled, her eyes now focused on those of her husband.

"Dickie…" Her eyes traveled down, and she saw that his hand was holding hers. Now she knew why it was so warm! She looked back up and saw concern etched over his entire face.

"What is it?" she asked, curious as to what must be worrying him.

"Thank God you're awake," he breathed, leaning forward and kissing her cheek. "Mrs. Hughes, would you send for the doctor?"

"Of course, milord."

Isobel's head turned quickly, causing her vision to blur once more. Mrs. Hughes? Why was Mrs. Hughes at Cavenham?

"Dickie…what is going on?" she asked again, attempting to sit up. He stood to stop her, but the lack of energy in her arms and the heavy weight of her chest had already stalled her attempt.

"You must stay calm, Isobel. Mrs. Hughes is going to send for Dr. Clarkson," he explained, putting both hands on her shoulders and helping her lean back against the pillows. "He said to keep quiet and stay still until he arrives to check on you."

Isobel took a moment to look around the room and quickly realized she was not in her own room at Cavenham Park.

"We're not at home…we're at Downton," she said quietly. Her eyes glanced over the bedside stand, hoping to find any clue as to what had happened.

"Yes…at Downton. Do you not remember…we came for the bazaar," he answered.

"What bazaar?"

He could see she was getting frustrated…it did not take long when she felt that something was being kept from her. And since she could read him like a book, he realized it would not help to keep reality a secret from her.

"Dickie, what bazaar?"

"The church bazaar. We came yesterday afternoon, but I'm afraid you fell quite ill. You've been resting since. Dr. Clarkson did not want you to be moved for a few days."

"I don't understand," she said softly, her eyes still searching the room, hoping something would trigger her memory. "I have been feeling fine. Dr. Clarkson said that everything seemed normal at the last appointment."

Dickie hung his head, both hands still clasping hers tight. "I know, my dear, I know."

Lifting his head after a moment, he reached forward and cupped her cheek with his hand. "Just rest now. He will be here soon and then perhaps it will all make a bit more sense."

"But what did he say is the cause of the illness?"

Dickie knew how difficult it was for Isobel to stop being the nurse and to simply allow someone else to take care of her. But what if he told her it was her heart…would it upset her so much that it sent her in to another attack?

Thankfully the door opened, and Mrs. Hughes returned. "The doctor is on his way, milord."

"Splendid. Thank you, Mrs. Hughes," Dickie replied, nodding at the Housekeeper before turning back to Isobel. "You see, he'll be here in no time, and I'm sure he will have a proper explanation to give."

"But I…"

"Lady Merton, Dr. Clarkson asked that you stay quiet and perhaps go back to sleep for a bit until he arrives," Mrs. Hughes relayed.

"He did, did he?" Isobel again tried to sit up on her own, but her arms were simply too weak. Frustrated, she sighed and closed her eyes. "Will one of you please tell me what has happened? This cannot be influenza or bronchitis..."

Mrs. Hughes looked to Lord Merton for direction but met only the wide, fear-filled eyes of the Baron. Knowing that he was at a loss for words, the Housekeeper reached down and patted Isobel gently on the shoulder.

"No milady, it is not influenza or bronchitis. I'm afraid you've had a spell with your heart. Dr. Clarkson wants you to rest for a few days to regain your strength."

Isobel's eyes popped open, quickly looking from Mrs. Hughes to Lord Merton. "Heart?" she whispered, her fingers tightening around his hand.

"I'm afraid so," he said in defeat.

"I have been so careful….I never thought…"

"Shh," Dickie hushed, moving to sit beside her on the bed. He gently placed his hand on her cheek, his fingers beginning to massage her temple. "You've done nothing wrong, Isobel. Just rest…we'll discuss more when the doctor arrives."

Mrs. Hughes took a few steps back, allowing the couple a bit more privacy. It was no more than two minutes until Lady Merton fell back asleep. Dickie continued to gently massage the back of her head and temples to calm her down. It was one of the only ways to help her sleep when she was this anxious or upset.

Quietly, Mrs. Hughes gathered a water pitcher and basin, placing it on the bedside table for Dr. Clarkson to wash his hands when he arrived. She took another blanket from the cupboard and gently laid it over Isobel.

"Mrs. Hughes…what Isobel just said…about her heart…"

"Lord Merton, whatever is spoken in this room will stay in this room," she stated, looking the man directly in the eye. "But I will say this…it is better to tell those you love the truth than to keep it a secret. Finding out in a way such as this only makes things harder in the end."

He bowed his head and moment and sighed. "You are right…I know you are right," he replied. "But she does not want to be pitied or coddled."

Mrs. Hughes offered a sympathetic smile to the distraught man in front of her. "I can imagine…Lady Merton is a very strong and self-sufficient woman. But in this case, change may be necessary."

Dickie nodded. "Quite right."

A knock sounded at the door, and Thomas announced Dr. Clarkson. Lord Merton stood, crossing to shake the doctor's hand.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Dr. Clarkson," he said.

"Of course. How is she?"

"Very confused and very weak," Dickie replied, motioning for the doctor to step towards the bed.

"That is to be expected after such an episode…has she spoken of any pain?"

"No."

"Good. I am going to listen to her heart first and then examine her fully. I am hopeful within a few days to have her out of bed and walking short distances to rebuild her strength," Dr. Clarkson explained, looking back and forth between the Housekeeper and Baron.

"Just let us know how we can be of help, Doctor," Mrs. Hughes replied.

"Dr. Clarkson, Mrs. Hughes is somewhat aware of Lady Merton's heart condition…I wish you would speak freely in front of her," Dickie explained as Dr. Clarkson set his bag on the bedside table.

"Very well…it _will _be helpful to have someone else who understands the severity of the situation," Dr. Clarkson replied with a nod.

As he gently placed the stethoscope on Isobel's chest, Elsie Hughes began to wonder just how much Lady Merton had been keeping from the family…and whether or not full recovery was in the cards.


End file.
